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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22636615">Thanks, Man</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/d2fmeasurement/pseuds/d2fmeasurement'>d2fmeasurement</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Succession (TV 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:08:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,828</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22636615</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/d2fmeasurement/pseuds/d2fmeasurement</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After boar on the floor, Tom tries to figure out why he protected Greg's secret.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Greg Hirsch/Tom Wambsgans</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>86</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Thanks, Man</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Thanks, man.” </p><p>The words echoed in Tom’s head as he was lying in bed next to Shiv. He could remember the exact sound of Greg’s voice and the look on his face. There was such pure gratitude which made him feel good, but also reminded him what an insane thing he’d done. He could’ve been the hero who reported the rat to Logan. He could’ve earned the place of trust he’d always wanted. But, he’d thrown that away-- and risked falling even further through the ranks-- for some nobody. Some random acquaintance he barely knew. </p><p>“Having trouble falling asleep?” Shiv asked. She was standing in the bedroom doorway, holding a glass of water. Tom jumped a little, startled to realize that he’d been so lost in thought that he hadn’t even noticed her slip out. </p><p>He looked over at her, feeling touched that she seemed interested in his mental state. He hesitated, then said, “I’ve been thinking over something I did on the hunting trip.”</p><p>She raised an eyebrow. “Alright. Just don’t tell me exactly where the body is buried.”</p><p>He laughed weakly. “It’s just that I had a chance to rat on someone, you know to curry favor with Logan. And I decided not to.”</p><p>She furrowed her eyebrows. “Who the fuck did you do that for?” </p><p>He paused. “This caterer. She fucked up with serving the meatballs.” Why did I feel the need to make Greg a woman in this scenario? Tom wondered. “Logan was really going on about who did it, you know. You know how he is.” </p><p>“Mmhmm,” Shiv said. “You protected her because you were attracted to her.”</p><p>He frowned. “What? No! Just because I didn’t rat on her that doesn’t mean I was attracted to her.” </p><p>“Maybe not. But, lying awake at night fretting over a minor interaction you had on vacation would indicate that,” she said. “Do you feel guilty or something? Because I don’t care.”</p><p>Tom sighed, feeling stung. “I wasn’t attracted to her. I just felt pity for another human being.”</p><p>“Mmhmm,” Shiv said. “Was she by chance extremely hot?”</p><p>“Objectively, sure,” Tom said with a shrug. “Not to me personally but yeah. She was very tall with nice features…. But kind of goofy. You know, unconventional. An acquired taste.”</p><p>“Well, was she unconventional or was she objectively hot?” Shiv asked.<br/>
Tom sputtered helplessly.</p><p>Shiv laughed. “You should’ve fucked her. Maybe it’d help you relieve some tension.” She finished her water then rolled over and closed her eyes. </p><p>Tom sighed. He continued staring up at the ceiling. He tossed and turned all night. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>When Tom had been in college, he’d briefly gotten into the inner circle of Jeremy Preston, a kid who came from an oil dynasty. He was the kind of person so rich and well-bred he could look down on Shiv Roy as Scottish new money trash. </p><p>One night while they were on vacation in Aspen, Jeremy had found his way into Tom’s bed and suggested they jerk each other off. Tom hadn’t felt conflicted at all because, at the end of the day, it was Jeremy Preston. There wasn’t anything gay about it. It was exciting because he was gripping a cock from an American dynasty, the blood rushing through him and making him hard was connected to centuries of power and prestige. </p><p>Tom had embarrassingly quickly so Jeremy got annoyed and went back to his own bed. Tom wanted to say he was still happy to finish off Jeremy, but he felt too ashamed. He just stared up at the ceiling silently.</p><p>Tom’s shame about that night wasn’t just about how quickly he came. He felt ashamed that he’d agreed to do it in the first place. He often fantasized about going back to that moment and saying, “No, absolutely not, dude. We’re not doing that.” In his fantasy, Jeremy nodded approvingly and told him that was the correct answer. They went on to stay friends forever and brought their wives and kids on vacations to Aspen together, their friendship completely unsullied. </p><p> </p><p>Tom found himself thinking about that night in college all day. He remembered that feeling of grabbing Jeremy, then wondered if Greg would feel the same. Then, he started thinking about how they hadn’t touched each other anywhere else-- it’s not gay! It’s basically jerking off with helping-- and how Greg would never be like that. He would insist on all sorts of touching. “Um, it’s just, well, don’t you usually, um, kiss first? Snuggle?” That’s how he’d say it, with that upspeak. Tom could easily imagine Greg’s dumb, obnoxious voice saying everything with rising inflection:</p><p>“Maybe grab that harder?”</p><p>“Could you, like, touch me here? Or, like… here?”</p><p>“Squeeze that?”</p><p>“Or maybe we shouldn’t?” Greg said.</p><p>Tom blinked, realizing he’d completely zoned out. He pushed all the images of Greg out of his head. “Hm?”</p><p>“Well, I was thinking we should but maybe we shouldn’t?” Greg said again.</p><p>“Right,” Tom said. “Absolutely not.”</p><p>“Oh. Okay,” Greg said. He made a note.</p><p>Tom hoped that whatever decision he’d just made wouldn’t tank ATN. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>When Tom and Greg were at lunch, Tom stabbed at his lobster salad unhappily. </p><p>“What’s up, man? What are you thinking about?” Greg asked.</p><p>Tom rolled his eyes and said, “You’re such a girl, wanting to know what I’m thinking about all the time.” It occurred to him that he’d actually never understood that stereotype because the women he was with basically never asked what he was thinking.</p><p>Greg shrugged.</p><p>“Why do you think people do nice things for each other?” he asked. </p><p>“Oh wow,” Greg said. He thought about it for a while and then said, “I guess just inherent goodness and compassion? Like, a recognition that we’re all humans who need help sometimes?”</p><p>“What? No,” Tom said, shaking his head. “I mean… why do people do nice things for some people that they wouldn’t do for other people.”</p><p>“Oh,” he said. “You mean, like, fondness?” </p><p>“Hm,” Tom said. “Yeah. Okay. Sure. Fondness. That’s not always, like, a romantic thing. Or a sexual thing.”</p><p>Greg blinked. “Well yeah. Of course.”</p><p>“Of course!” Tom repeated loudly. “It can be platonic, familial.” He smiled a little, suddenly realizing something. “You know, you and I are family.”</p><p>“Huh?” Greg asked.</p><p>“I’m married to your cousin,” Tom said.</p><p>Greg laughed. “Oh, I guess. I never thought of you like that.”</p><p>“What do you mean? How did you think of me?” Tom asked, his voice getting high. </p><p>“Uh. As just a guy, I guess?” Greg said.</p><p>“Well, I thought of you as family,” Tom said firmly. </p><p>“Cool,” Greg said. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>As he walked home, he thought about what a relief it was to have it sorted out. He just protected Greg because he’s Shiv’s cousin. He would do the same for anyone in his wife’s family. Probably not Kendall or Roman. But, they’re assholes. As he entered his apartment building, he remembered that Connor also existed. He certainly wouldn’t protect Connor. But, he sucks. But, any theoretical family member, sure. </p><p>They’d have to be as nice as Greg, of course, he thought as he entered the elevator. As nice to be around. Really, he’d protect anyone who gave him that same feeling of brightening his day, of being easy to talk to. It didn’t have to mean anything. He would naturally protect anyone he had that same connection with. </p><p>But, as the elevator doors opened, it occurred to him that he didn’t have that connection with anyone else. He never had and maybe he never would. He felt his stomach sink, it was like the elevator was skyrocketing up at light speed, not going at the normal gentle pace. He felt like he was in a full panic as he thought about just how unique his feelings for Greg were. As he stepped off the elevator, he worried about what he’d say to Shiv when she asked what was wrong. </p><p>But, he quickly realized he didn’t have to worry. She didn’t even look up from the magazine she was reading. </p><p>Good, he thought. Good. No one will notice. It’ll be easy to hide these feelings. Good. </p><p> </p><p>“What’s wrong? You’ve seemed upset all day,” Greg said.</p><p>Tom stared at him. “Nope. I’m not upset,” he said.</p><p>“You can tell me,” Greg said. </p><p>He had these big, annoying concerned eyes and Tom realized he wouldn’t let it go. He could see how fundamentally shaken Tom was. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.</p><p>“Greg, have you ever felt ashamed?” he asked.</p><p>“Oh, is this about…” Greg lowered his voice. “Those documents?” </p><p>“No,” Tom said.</p><p>“Oh, is it that racist segment ATN did on the--”</p><p>Tom shook his head. “No, I mean, real stuff. Stuff that makes you feel really ashamed. Like… feelings.”</p><p>Greg looked at him, confused.</p><p>“Feelings for people.” He sighed. “Feelings for people who aren’t the people that you’re supposed to have feelings for.”</p><p>“Oh. Oh, like you… you like someone who’s not your wife?” Greg asked.</p><p>Tom shrugged and nodded a little. </p><p>“Well, I think cheating is wrong,” Greg said.</p><p>“Thank you. That’s the kind of genius emotional insight I turn to you for,” Tom said, rolling his eyes.</p><p>“But… I also think if you’re not happy, you know you should… make the changes you gotta make to be happy. You know?” Greg said. </p><p>Tom shook his head. “That’s not an option.”</p><p>“Oh okay,” Greg said agreeably. He looked at the spreadsheet he had opened on his computer and clicked around on a bit before turning back to Tom. “But, like, what if it was? Like if they… liked you back? Would that change what you think?”</p><p>“Liked me back? This isn’t middle school,” Tom said.</p><p>Greg laughed. “Right. Right. But, you know what I mean? Like, they could… maybe they also want you to go for it, you know? Like, maybe your feelings are totally mutual? Would you think that was cool…”</p><p>Tom narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Greg’s hopeful little smile. Oh God, he thought. “Well, I don’t know how you would know if she likes me back. You don’t even know her,” he snapped.</p><p>“Oh,” Greg said, his face fell. He got the saddest look in his eyes. He went back to work on the spreadsheet. </p><p>Tom turned around and let out a breath. Took care of that, he thought. Now I just have to get better at hiding things. Make sure he doesn’t start to suspect again. </p><p>He was determined to head towards the door and get on with living his life in denial. But, instead he turned back to Greg and very quietly said, “Let’s meet up at a hotel tonight. It’ll be good.” </p><p>“Oh! Okay!” Greg said.</p><p>Tom smiled a little as he turned away again and left the room. His smile grew as he took out his phone to make the hotel reservation. He felt good, like a weight had been lifted off of him.</p>
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